The Day is Young
by The Blood Essence
Summary: So, as of right now there is no set plot for this. It is mainly about Apollo, and I'll admit its kinnda fluffy. Read/review if you want, no Yaoi, minor OCs throughout. It's sort of like an in depth look into Apollo's head as he goes through a typical day
1. Chapter 1

Apollo was a morning person. This fact surprised most anyone who had met him after 10:30, which was about the time he crashed and became extremely grumpy. That being said, anyone who met him earlier than that, typically wanted to smash his skull into the nearest hard surface repeatedly. Today was no different, the first high pitch tone hadn't even finished its sound when Apollo was already sitting up in bed turning it off. It was 4:30 AM. Apollo painfully remembered he had yet again fallen asleep without changing. His tie was wrapped around his throat in an even more complicated and messier knot than usual. It won't have been the first time Apollo had shown up in the office and had to ask Mr. Wright to help him with his tie. It was an art Apollo was still struggling to master, and one which occasionally slipped his mind altogether.

Fighting the tie off his head, Apollo rolled over to relieve the pain in his mid-drift where his belt was cutting into his skin. Apollo had the same trouble most tall and scrawny men did, to get the correct leg length, it generally meant going up a size in the waist. The only practical solution, that didn't involve tailors or custom orders, was a belt, typically cinched into the smallest hole.

Apollo swung his legs over the edge of his bed, stood up, and promptly fell over. Both feet were still asleep, probably because he was still wearing his dress-shoes, which were cheap and a size to small. Apollo had been fighting the urge to duct-tape the places were the stitches were splitting, but knew he would eventually have to accept that he needed to buy new ones. Where exactly he would get that money he wasn't sure, things had been tough at the firm for quite some time.

Apollo dis-attached the shoes from his feet and tossed them a few yards away onto the landing near his front door. Trying again, Apollo stood and wandered to his bathroom mirror.

More than one person had asked him in his lifetime, why exactly he wore his hair the way he did? Normally he brushed it off with a joke, or at lest attempted to sound like it was intentional, the truth was the complete opposite. Apollo's two "antenna", were actually what all the rest of his hair looked like. At 4:45 in the morning, Apollo's hair was as spiky as it got, and no offence to Mr. Wright, but Apollo considered spiky hair unprofessional. Apollo took special pains to make sure his hair was as flat as it could possibly be, he did this by using more hair products than Trucy probably owned. In fact, Apollo knew it was more than she owned. There had been a few occasions, in the tight hours before a trial, that Apollo needed emergency hair spray and, daringly, adventured into Trucy's room to borrow some. At least one of these ended with Mr. Wright nearly firing him. ...he could be over-protective about his "daughter".

Apollo reviewed his plans for this morning, he had to pick up his dry-cleaning, that was definitely first. He was also running low and food... He could get that done this morning, he didn't have to be to the office until nine. But... he couldn't go out looking like he did. That was, to be specific, grey slacks he had just slept in, a sweat stained white dress shirt, and an over-sized blazer Mr. Wright had given to him as a hand-me-down, with the promise that "he would grow into it".

Apollo stretched and cracked his back, not much to do but raid his closet... as unpromising as it might be. With one last vengeful look at his hair in the mirror, which really wouldn't be so bad if he would wash the product out the night before, he stalked out of the room, throwing his jacket and shirt on the floor as he went,

He came back momentarily, his slacks traded in for faded blue jeans that were equally, if not more so, wrinkled. They also sported several holes around the knees and the frays at the cuff line. And, again, much like his previous trousers, they were far to large in the waist but only just covered his socks.

Apollo fixed his belt and tucked his t-shirt in, amazingly this article of clothing actually fit him, being neither to large or too small. That was pretty much Apollo's miracle for the day. Lastly, he tugged a pull-on red hoddie over his head. He'd had it since about 8th grade, it was over-sized then, but Apollo figured he would have grown into it by now. Sadly, it was still fairly baggy on his slim frame.

"Whatever...", Apollo mumbled, twisting his head over his shoulder as he rotated his torso, to get a better look in the mirror. Grabbing a base ball cap that had hung on the back of the bathroom door for as long as Apollo could remember, he shoved his unruly hair underneath it. Unsatisfied he turned it backwards, his two antenna popped out from underneath the front.

That was about as good as it was gonna get, he figured. Sooner he went to the dry cleaners and picked up his two parts of a three piece suit, the sooner he could stop feeling like an awkward teenager who just went shopping by himself for the first time.

Bursting out the front door of his apartment, Apollo walked down the street with his typical jubilant stride. He whistled tunelessly, as he wandered past the various buildings he'd learned to call his neighborhood. These were the few precious hours Apollo had to relax and enjoy his simple state of being. As soon as the clock struck nine, Apollo was a lawyer again. He'd have a full morning of filing paperwork, answering telephone calls, placating clients, and basically doing everything a paralegal should be doing, if the firm had had the funds to hire one. With Apollo doing most of the grunt work for Nick, he hardly had the time to take on any of his own cases. The last case had been a disaster, Apollo won (barely), but succeeded in giving himself a panic attack the day before. He spent the majority of the night before the trial throwing up in his bathroom.

So, Apollo cherished these early hours. They were free of worry, responsibility, and stress, all things Apollo had far too much of during the rest of his waking hours.

Turing the corner, Apollo spotted the dry cleaners, he also spotted a sign that said they didn't open until 6:30. Which, for a dry cleaners, is pretty early. Apollo shrugged it off, there was a 24/7 market a few block away, he'd do his shopping first and pick up his clothes on the way back. Also, he rather fancied the girl who worked the night shift there, and she was getting off work in less than an hour. Apollo mentally chided himself, knowing full well it was a hopeless endeavor, but never the less continued steadily down the side walk.

The automatic doors slid apart for Apollo as he entered, the store was small. You could spit to the other side if you felt like it. Out of the corner of his eye, Apollo caught sight of the girl behind the checkout counter, looking as thoroughly disinterested as she always did. Her bubble gum popped as she continued to peruse a kinky magazine, full of girls who she'd never be as pretty as. The girl at checkout was, for lack of a better word, very averrage. She had brown, limp hair, a chest that was all but hidden under a sweatshirt, and a little extra fat here and there. But, there was something about her Apollo couldn't pinpoint and couldn't get enough of. Maybe he just spent so much time around crazy people, her normalcy was simply a pleasant change.

"Hello," Apollo manged as he collected his groceries on the counter. He smiled, as genuinely as he could with her mascara smeared eyes staring him down with an intensity he didn't get from most of his bitterest rivals.

"What happened to the monkey suit?" She said, daring him to answer. Not waiting for a response, she dragged her slouched form away from the counter and over to the cash register. Apollo took that moment to glance at the still open magazine on the counter, quickly wishing he hadn't. The two page spread featured several young people modeling tattoos and piercings in places Apollo had no desire to see.

"Umm," he stuttered, trying to bleach the images from his mind, "the dry-cleaners. I'm picking it up next."

"Uh-huh," she responded, hardly listening as she hit the cash register several times. Eventually it "Ka-ching"'ed open, and she made change. Turing towards him to give him his receipt and money, she caught his perturbed look and quickly traced it back to the magazine. "You want it or something?" she held up the magazine, "Seriously, you can take it if you want. Some bozo left it here earlier, and I sure as hell don't want it."

Apollo shook his head hard, trying to avoid looking at the cover. "N-no, that's alright." He grabbed his bags and change blindly as he turned for the door. He could hear the girl laughing behind him.

"Suit yourself, I wouldn't want this trash either."

Apollo risked one final look behind him, their eyes met in the briefest glance. Then, nothing. She had gone back to work putting more paper in the receipt machine and Apollo was already out the doors and into the morning air.

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	2. Chapter 2

The dry cleaners was a completely different experience. It was owned by a little old Chinese woman who lived in the apartment above it, which explained why the cleaners opened so early. As far as Apollo was concerned, she was probably the nicest woman he'd ever met, and Apollo happened to be a favorite of her's as well. She'd told him on multiple occasions she would adopt him if she could, that 23 was too young to be out on his own. Apollo tried to tell her he was fine, and his boss took very good care of him, but she would always shake her head and go fix him tea despite his protests.

As he approached, Apollo could already see Mrs. Liao hard at work through the floor-to-ceiling glass window that made up the front of the shop. He regretfully glanced at the sign again and then to his watch. He still had a half hour before she opened, he made to walk away but not before she saw him. Apollo flushed with embarrassment as Mrs. Liao scampered out the front door to stop him form leaving.

"No, no, no," she said, waving her finger at him. "You come in, I have your clothes and-"

"Really, Mrs, Liao, I'll come back latter," he held up his hands in mock defence from her waving hands. "I have other errands to run, anyway."

"Is six in the morning," she scowled. "Nothing is open, you come in now." She defiantly flipped the closed sign over on her door. "Shop is open, you come in and sit while I make tea."

Apollo opened his mouth to object again, but Mrs. Liao's fierce little eyes scrunched ever so slightly more, and Apollo was quickly convinced the argument was lost. He sighed apologetically.

"You really don't have to-"

"Of course I don't have to," she cut him off, "Now come inside, I say this last time."

Apollo was overly acquainted with the inside of Mrs. Liao's kitchen, he'd only spent almost every Wednesday evening there after work when he had to do his mid-weekly laundry. He'd quickly learned to stop offering to help her, this point had been particularly emphasised when a wooden spoon was applied to the back of his head, along with a, "Shut up; drink tea". Of course, he still tried.

"Really, Mrs. Liao, I have tea at my apartment. At least let me help with the tray-"

"Sit!" She ordered as Apollo started to get up to relive the tray from her hands. Apollo slowly sank back into his chair. Apollo kept eye contact, a serious edge in his voice now.

"Mrs. Liao, I really appreciate all this, but you have to let me repay you somehow." Of course Apollo had no idea how he would do that, he supposed he could try to work here as a second job...

"Stupid."

"Excuse me?"

"You, stupid boy." She set the tray down and levered herself into the chair across from him. "You repay friendship with friendship and hospitality with gratefulness." Her eyes gleamed as she held Apollo's gaze. "No more, no less." Apollo blinked repeatedly, superficially comprehending the words, but internally still mulling them over. "Now, no more talk of debts. Tell me about your day."

"Mrs. Liao-" But Apollo stopped himself, no more talk of debts... "Its been alright I suppose," he disjointedly finished. Then a thought struck him. "You know that girl who works the night shift at the 24/7 the next block over?"

Mrs. Liao nodded non-committedly, urging him to continue. Apollo hesitated, not sure where to go from there. Mrs. Liao seemed to sense this.

"Come back latter, we talk of her then. For, I believe your suit is done."

"Oh, right!" Apollo jumped from his chair and checked his watched, he had approximately twenty minuets to catch the train he needed to get himself to work. "Errr," Apollo looked apologetically at Mrs. Liao. "Any chance I can change here? I have a train to catch." Mrs. Liao's smile was full of laughter.

"Of course. Back room by washers is empty, your suit is hanging on rack, can't miss it."

Apollo thanked her and disappeared to change, glad he'd pick up hair spray at the convenience store, or else he would have been in for a day of heckling.

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	3. Chapter 3

Apollo nearly fell down the twenty-odd steps into the subway in his rush, just catching himself before his center of gravity shifted irreversibly. Attempting not break pace, Apollo kept running down the stairs, jumping the last three.

He reached the train as the last call went out, shouldering his way in, he was unsurprised to see all the seats full. Which meant standing for his fifty minuet ride to the city...

Grabbing the handle swinging above his head, Apollo held on as the train jerked to life and started to rocket down the tracks. He allowed him self a sigh of relief, at least he'd made it. He was also thankful he'd had the foresight to bring his legal case with him this morning, because if he had had to go back to his apartment to get it first, he never would have made the train. Of course, that also meant he was still carrying his two bags of groceries. Most of their content were non-perishable and could live on his desk for a day, but he really hoped there was room in the mini fridge at work for his half-gallon of milk, or else he'd wasted almost five bucks he couldn't afford to waste.

Apollo was quite a sight to see on that train, which was mostly filled tired looking bland business men, and the occasional drunk still sleeping off his previous night's binge. Apollo was wearing his trademark fire-engine red pants and vest; however the blue tie that normally adorned his collar was stuffed in his breast pocket. This was one of those mornings he couldn't do a tie to save his life. Also, his dress shirt was still sticking out in the back and he was walking on the backs of his shoes, since he hadn't had time to sit down and untie them yet. He was completely aware that Mr. Gavin would have been very disapproving of Apollo showing up to work in that state, however, Apollo's new boss typical came to work dressed like a hobo. So, Apollo wasn't that worried, and despite all that, he continued to give off his usual aura of over-confidence and eccentric professionalism, even if his hair was slightly more ridiculous today than normal. Apollo was very temped to re-don the baseball cap, but figured that would just attract more attention. 

About halfway through the train ride, a seat opened up and Apollo manged to take it before anyone else. He stuffed his brief case and groceries into the overhead compartment, and then relaxed onto the bench seat. Propping up his foot on his opposite knee he began unlacing it, fitting in his foot correctly and then re-lacing it. Then Rinsed and repeated. A few futile attempts at tying his tie latter, and the train was coming upon the subway station. Stuffing the necktie back into his pocket, Apollo stood up, adjusted his shirt and vest, grabbed his various bags and brief case, and was swept along with the crowd getting off the train.

The harsh sun blinded him momentarily as he passed from the subways steps into the city light. He quickly checked his watch, as of right now he was ahead of schedule, but that could change at a moments notice. Apollo decided not to take any chances, and started walking the familiar sidewalks to the Wright & Co. Law Offices.

"Hey?", Apollo called loudly into the office, he was early by about an hour, but sometimes Phoenix slept there. That was usually the only time Nick ever got into work before Apollo. Hearing no response, Apollo shrugged and walked further into the main lobby, which was typically reserved for talking to clients. The next room was Phoenix's office, much smaller than the lobby and a complete mess with books and papers. Apollo rarely went in here, only when Phoenix called him in or if Apollo desperately needed a phone number or piece of evidence Nick forgotten to give him. Apollo poked his head in, making sure Nick wasn't just asleep at his desk, which he wasn't. Apollo withdrew and walked to the second door that gave access to his office, which was actually large than Phoenix's. The reason for this being that Apollo shared the room with Trucy. At one point in time there was red tape dividing it down the center to mark where Apollo's office ended and Trucy's magic parlor began, but it had long since vanished, and now Apollo's desk and filling cabinet where stuffed in the corner of the room as far as they could go while  
Trucy's magical apparatus filled the rest of it. Not to mention it was the unofficial break room.

Apollo tripped over a string of scarves tied together and caught his balance on the large box Trucy used to saw people apart. Walking carefully around Trucy's junk, Apollo searched for what had become of the mini-fridge. Eventually he found it underneath a silk cloth, as it was acting as an impromptu card table. Apollo made sure it was plugged in, and then manged to squeeze his milk and a cup of yogurt inside, he replaced the cloth and stumbled his way across the room to his desk.

Sitting down hard in his swivel chair, he closed his eyes. Mr. Wright had that case this week, and he still didn't have all the witness affidavits and Apollo wasn't done editing the opening statement yet. Plus, they'd picked up a new client over the weekend who was supposed to be coming in today to have her case reviewed. Apollo groaned, it was going to be a long week. The phone interrupted Apollo's thought process. He felt around through the papers that covered his desk to locate the phone.

"Wright and company law offices, Apollo Justice speaking." He waited, the response wasn't immediate. He tapped the fingers of his free hand, wondering if it was a bad connection.

"I...", the person on the other line began, "I have a meeting today with a... Mr. Wright?"

"Um, yes..." Apollo searched frantically around the desk for the client list, laying hands on it he scanned through Mr. Wright's messy scrawl. "Ms. Opel?" He took a stab in the dark, it was the only name circled in red with a star next to it.

"Yes... that's me. I was just calling to, um, verify the meeting." Her voice was extremely hesitant as she spoke.

"I'll be sure to remind Mr. Wright about it, though I'm sure he hasn't forgotten." Apollo tried to sound reassuring, but really had no skill at it. He just hoped Mr. Wright would actually remember the meeting and show up in a suit today, because Apollo really didn't feel like talking to whoever Ms. Opel was any longer than was strictly necessary.

"Oh- okay... Thank you. Sorry to bother you..."

"No bother at all, Ms. Opel. We'll see you later today then."

Click

Apollo stared at the phone for a moment, confused and a little disturbed by the awkward call. He was immediately glad whatever the case was, that it wasn't his. Shaking himself, Apollo fired up the laptop on his desk, he had work to do, and doing it was much easier without Trucy pestering him to "come on! Pick a card Polly!"


	4. Chapter 4

Apollo had been staring at the laptop screen coming on a good twenty minuets now, and he'd only corrected the word "teh" to "the" and moved a misplaced modifier. It was slow work. Mr. Wright had e-mailed him the opening statement late Friday night, so this was really Apollo's first chance to take a good look at it... and of course the trial was Wednesday.

Apollo ran a hand carelessly through his hair, feeling the strands saturated in hairspray start to come loose. This was not going well, and it was all because of the Jurist System. Up until now, opening statement were straight to the point and under a paragraph long. Good opening statements were bold, outrageous, and very short. That was when opening statements were written for other lawyers and judges, not about a dozen lay men and women who may or may not even want to be participating in the trial.

When Mr. Wright was in school, there had never been a class that taught how to write opening statements directed at jurors, Apollo was lucky enough to have picked it up as an elective in his second year though. Still, he was hardly fluent with it. He knew the basics, that the opening had to make an emotional, moral, and logical appeal to the audience. So, not only did it have to make sense, it had to seem morally right, and also make a deep emotional connection. That was really hard when the case was a complex banking fraud scam. Why exactly Mr. Wright had picked up a civil case Apollo wasn't really sure, though he suspected somehow it would turn into a murder case by the end.

Apollo reviewed the statement again. It was long, and complex. There was a lot of terminology and mathematics, as well as several legal precedents that were going to hypothetically win the case for them. But, Apollo doubted if the jurors would understand any of that, Apollo was even having a hard time understanding it at some points. He sighed. It didn't help that defense attorneys went into cases with a bad reputation to start with. Which, in a nutshell, is that they let murders walk free to make a quick buck.

Apollo hammered something out on the key board, then backspaced it. He was at a loss. Despite the fact that all the evidence was on their side in this case, all the jurors were going to see was a rich man with a shady past accused of bank fraud and a sleazy defense attorney who was just in it for the money. That was the problem with the jurist system.

"Guess who!", a voice shouted behind him as two gloved hand covered Apollo's eyes.

"Hello, Trucy." He reached up and removed her hands, then went back to staring at the computer screen thoughtfully.

"You're no fun." She pouted, Apollo didn't even have to look up to know she was pouting- it was in her voice. He was about to turn and argue with her, but he felt a grip on his shoulder and reflexively turned that way instead. Phoenix was reading over his shoulder.

"This makes absolutely no sense," Nick stated. "I don't even remember writing most of this." There was silence for a moment as he finished reading and Trucy stole Apollo's yogurt. Finally Apollo spoke up.

"I've been trying to fix it, but-"

"Forget it, I'll just improvise." Nick clapped him on the shoulder, "Any phone calls this morning?"

"Just your 11:30 appointment, she called to confirm." Apollo did note with relief that Mr. Wright was wearing his power suit, and not his hobo disguise. Apollo waited for Nick to say something, maybe even offer up some information about this mysterious woman. Apollo did catch a quick flashed of uncertainty, but Phoenix quickly masked it again.

"What exactly did she say?" The serious note in his voice just added to the foreboding feeling Apollo already had in his gut.

"Uum, just that she wanted to make sure that your meeting was still happening." Apollo fiddle with the pen in his hand, debating if he should press the issue. He waited a second, Phoenix seemed deep in thought. Seeing he wasn't going to get any voluntary testimony, Apollo pushed forwards. "So, are you going to, uh, take her case?" Phoenix ignored him and walked out of the room.

"That was odd," Trucy commented, licking the last of Apollo's yogurt off a plastic spoon.

"Yeah... it- Hey!" He swiped the empty plastic cup away. "Why Trucy, just why?"

"I was hungry." She stuck the spoon to her nose. Grumbling, Apollo deleted the document he'd been working on and closed the top of the laptop down. Pushing his swivel chair towards the filing cabinet, Apollo expertly picked the draw and file he needed, it was the bank fraud case. He'd just opened it on his desk when Phoenix stuck his head in the room again.

"The detective just called me on my cell, the autopsy is in. Can you get it?"

Apollo was about to ask "what autopsy?", but it died on his lips. It was clear Nick wasn't in the mood for questions.

"Yeah... Sure thing, Mr. Wright."

"Good." And then he disappeared again.


	5. Chapter 5

Apollo grabbed the jacket he'd left at the office the night before, and shrugged it on. He'd walk to the precinct, that way he could stop by the bank on the way and see if the financial records for the fraud case were in yet. He was aware of Trucy stalking him to the door, waiting for an invitation to come with. He glanced over his shoulder to verify this, and saw Trucy's head sticking around the door frame. He sighed.

"Well, come on." He gestured for her to follow.

"Whee!" She gave him a running tackle type hug, nearly knocking him over. "Thanks, Polly! Technically I've been grounded," she stage whispered, "But! If it's for official lawyer business, I don't think daddy will mind." Apollo immediately got that sinking feeling. Last thing he wanted to do was get caught in the middle of their strange father/daughter conflicts...

"Just, stay out of trouble, I guess." It was these moments that made Apollo solemnly vow never to be a parent.

They'd barely made it out the front entrance when Apollo already regretted his decision to bring Trucy. They, of course, had to stop at the cafe next door before they could start their walk. Apollo ordered hot chocolate for Trucy and coffee for himself. Part of Apollo would have much rather been sipping on coco, but he'd had about four hours of sleep last night and knew he'd been grateful for the caffeine very soon. Walking down the streets, drinks in hand, it was slow progress as they beat their way through the crowds of city people. Neither one spoke much, Apollo was still contemplating the hopeless fraud case, and Trucy was too busy assaulting people on the street to, "Come one! Pick a card!" and waving her hat about in hope of tips.

It was almost ten, by the time they reached the bank. Apollo glanced at the security camera on the way in, making a mental note to ask about it later. He pushed the revolving doors and entered, and was then hit in the back by the door behind him as Trucy pushed her way through too quickly. Managing to make it out alive, Apollo caught the bank manager's angry stare. There went his first impression.

"Good morning," Apollo approached him, trying his best to sound both friendly and professional.

"What do you kids want?" The manger huffed, and Apollo sensed a "you know Halloween is not for months right?" comment coming, he quickly cut him off.

"We're from Wright & Co. Law Offices," he held out a clipboard of official looking information for the man, who refused to take it, so Apollo just held it out awkwardly while the man read.

"Right then," the manager seemed marginally satisfied, though still unhappy about the whole situation, "you'll be wanting the bank statements?"

"And, the employ testimonies if you have them," Apollo paused as the older man shot him a look, he was obviously not amused at being ordered around, but eventually answered.

"We sent them to the precinct yesterday, you'll have to pick them up there," his tone was close to hostile, then with an authoritative wave, he beckoned them to follow. Apollo and Trucy exchanged a glance, then quickly made their way after him.

The bank seemed small from in front of the counters, but once past them, it was almost a maze of stairs, offices, and conference rooms. At first Apollo tried to keep track, but quickly gave up. They rounded a final corner and walked into a large office with expensive furniture, Apollo could only assume that it was the manager's. A small plaque on the desk read "Mr. Sterns". Trucy whistled in admiration, and Apollo elbowed her, and she stopped mid-whistle.

Mr. Sterns rummaged through his wall of filing cabinets, searching half-heartedly for the documents. Apollo was beginning to think it was a waste of time, he checked his watch, it had already been twenty minuets since they'd arrived. He had a sneaking suspicion they weren't going to get the records...

"Well," Mr. Sterns said with mock sympathy, after fifteen more minuets of fake searching, "looks like my secretary misplaced it." He shrugged. "So sorry to have wasted your time." Of course his grin said completely otherwise. Apollo clenched his teeth and could feel his fingernails biting into the palms of his balled fists.

"That's alright," he struggled to smile, or at least not scowl. "Should we come back later?"

"No. No, I don't think that will be necessary. You can show yourselves out."

Apollo could feel the blood pulsing in his temples; this wasn't how it was supposed to be. He'd spent the majority of his life not being listened to, disregarded, and generally treated like an idiot, being a lawyer was supposed to change all that. He didn't work twelve hour days for clients he barely knew so people, like this man, could just blow him off. It was only Trucy's hand on his arm that stopped him from striking out physically.

"You're aware that I can charge you with obstruction of justice, for this?" Apollo said through gritted teeth to stop himself from shouting.

"Don't worry," the man waved his hand arrogantly, "by the time the prosecutor comes by, I'm sure I'll have located it. Now, good day." He walked out of the room through a door at the back, there was the definite sound of a lock sliding into place.

Apollo swung his fist in aggravation, slamming it into the solid wood door behind him, he didn't even feel the jarring pain in his hand. He hoped that bastard would be called in the trial, Apollo wanted to see Phoenix rip him apart on cross.

"Polly…" Trucy was still clinging to his arm, her eyes held the same indigent rage, "let's go." Apollo started several sentences, but in exasperation couldn't finish any. Eventually, he allowed Trucy to lead him away to the lobby.

By the last set of stairs, Apollo had regained some composer. Trucy had let go of him and was now spewing her own angry tirade, the quick flash of maturity gone, whereas Apollo was falling back into old habits of sulky silence. It took every bit of his emotional strength to remain in control, he couldn't give in to self doubt yet, though it was slowly but surely creeping into the edges of his thoughts.


End file.
